


do me a favor (and stay)

by liebestraum



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Blind Date, Fluff, I can't believe I wrote fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, other seventeen members are mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 04:24:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15941729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liebestraum/pseuds/liebestraum
Summary: Soonyoung doesn’t expect to be forced into a double date with the personification of a greek god, but Jihoon is always full of surprises.





	do me a favor (and stay)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chocotea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocotea/gifts).



The moment Jihoon latches onto his arm and gives him puppy eyes, Soonyoung knows something is wrong.

First of all, it is way too early for Jihoon to even be awake. He had spent the past forty-eight hours on a caffeine spree, his recycling bin accumulating waxed paper cups as he hunched over his computer, typing until the clattering of the keyboard had drilled its way into Soonyoung’s head. Last night he had woken up at some ungodly hour to Jihoon raiding the fridge, and Soonyoung had made him toast because Jihoon had already burned two batches in his half-sleeping stupor.

He really doesn’t know how Jihoon is still standing up, with his under-eyes darkened like purple half-moons and pale, veiny skin threatening to make him resemble one of those Dracula-like vampires you only see on Halloween. Soonyoung hates this about Jihoon - he procrastinates all his deadlines and then overworks himself to the brink of exhaustion, spending the next couple of days in a near hibernation state before adjusting to a relatively more human sleeping schedule.

Which begs the question: why isn’t Jihoon asleep right now?

“I have a favour to ask you,” Jihoon says, sounding almost sweet were it not for his nails digging into Soonyoung’s bicep.

That’s the other thing. Jihoon is averse to all sorts of displays of affection, whether in public or in private, and that extends more to him than anyone else. Which is why when Jihoon he had linked their arms together while Soonyoung poured some cereal into his bowl the latter’s eyebrows had shot up expressively, almost recoiling at how close Jihoon had been. Now he isn’t sure if Jihoon’s plan comes down to surprising or intimidating the living hell out of him, but it’s working.

“What,” Soonyoung says flatly. It’s way too early for this.

“I’m going to need you to wake me up at, like, seven?” Jihoon moves away, grabbing a handful of the corn flakes from the bowl in front of him before swallowing them down without chewing. “I just sent Wonwoo my final draft, so I’m going to take a nap.”

Soonyoung stares blankly at him, his brain not at its full capacity yet. “‘s that it?”

“Well, no,” Jihoon smiles a bit sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Soonyoung can feel the frown tightening his brows before it’s even there. “You remember Junhui, from Tech Econ?”

Soonyoung has to dig up a few drawers in his brain before he finally comes up with an association to that name. Tech Econ are the real estate consulting firm Jihoon’s editorial company had hired to aid in the renovation of their building, a project the owner of the network had instructed to go forward in March and had been set in motion somewhere around the last three months. Soonyoung remembers Jihoon mentioning Junhui as the “awkward lanky guy with a suit” who had spilled coffee all over Jihoon’s shirt just as he was on his way to meet Wonwoo in his office.

“Yes?” Soonyoung offers, uncertain.

Jihoon looks like he wants to scoff, but he doesn’t, which is even more alarming. “Well, you know… things sort of happened.”

“Jesus, did the guy knock you up or something?” Soonyoung asks, and the way Jihoon’s ears redden almost immediately is pretty telling. “So you’re going on a date with this guy and you want me to wake you up? Fine, then,” he finally sets the bowl on the table and adds some milk to it. “Go to sleep now.”

“That’s not all there is to it, though,” Jihoon says, his next string of words coming out so fast Soonyoung can barely make them out from each other. “He thinks I’m doing this to set you up with someone.”

Soonyoung halts, milk overflowing from his spoon and dripping back into the bowl as he holds it suspended mid-air. He must have heard that wrong.

“You know, we were just talking about ourselves and I kind of mentioned I had a roommate,” Jihoon continues when Soonyoung remains quiet for too long. “And then I might have said you were the kind of person who bought dollar store romance novels to fill up your loneliness, to which he said he had a friend who is like that as well, and to which I might have suggested we all go out on a double date to introduce you two.”

Soonyoung lowers his spoon, slowly, and runs a hand over his face. “You _what_?”

“Listen, Soon, I panicked,” Jihoon says, his voice a pitch higher than usual as he anxiously trudges around the kitchen with his arms folded. “I’ve wanted to ask him out for the longest time, but you know I’m not good with these things. It seemed like the perfect opportunity. I just had to say you were too shy to go on a one-on-one date with a stranger and he agreed to it immediately.”

“Okay, okay, wait,” Soonyoung holds his hand up, waiting for Jihoon to calm down to proceed. “So, besides you telling some random guy that I’m pretty much desperate and lonely, you also offered me as bait without even asking first? Damn, Jihoon, how hot is this guy?”

“From one to ten?” Jihoon sighs. “Eleven.”

“Wow,” Soonyoung shakes his head, blinking bemusedly at his bowl of cereal like it holds all the answers to this situation.

“Please, Soon,” Jihoon grumbles, sitting across from Soonyoung with his his face in his hands. “I’ll do anything. Well, not anything, don’t push it,” he says, more pointedly. “But I could do, like, your laundry? The dishes? Anything.”

“Okay,” Soonyoung says, looking up and meeting Jihoon’s eyes resolutely. “Go to sleep.”

Jihoon visibly sags in his chair. “What?”

“You heard me. Go to sleep. That’s my request,” Soonyoung closes his eyes, readying himself for his next sentence. “I’ll wake you up at seven.”

“Does that mean you’ll go?” Jihoon asks, hopeful. He tries his hardest not to squeal when Soonyoung offers him a weary nod, but he does spring up from his seat to hug Soonyoung so tightly it knocks the wind out of him. “I knew I could count on you. I owe you big time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Soonyoung coughs to hide his obvious embarrassment, and waves a hand dismissively. “Just go get some rest. You look like you just dug your way out of a grave.”

“I promise you won’t regret it!” Jihoon yells all the way from the hall, as if Soonyoung isn’t regretting it already.

Soonyoung stirs his mushy cereal around the bowl and for once wishes he could sleep for fifteen hours straight like his roommate.

 

The place Jihoon had chosen is just downtown, on an upward street that leads to the municipal theatre which is currently presenting the Swan Lake Bolshoi Ballet. Jihoon is all dressed up in an ironed starched-collar shirt and navy blue blazer, grinning from ear to ear even as their Uber driver makes small chat, which he usually despises.

Soonyoung, on the other hand, had decided to wear a simple white polo with washed-out jeans, which Jihoon had eyed up and down before shrugging and going back to hiding his dark circles with Soonyoung’s concealer stick. He leans back tiredly against his seat and looks outside, watching other lives go by. His thighs are still jittery from all the leg exercises he’d done today, but Jihoon elbows him and tells him to stop, that all he has to do is be polite and do small talk.

“God, a thank you would be nice,” Soonyoung says when they pull up at their destination.

“Maybe if you don’t embarrass me in the following hours,” Jihoon throws back.

The restaurant isn’t shabby, but it’s not as fancy as Soonyoung had feared. There’s a birthday party filled with college students banging their fists on the table they walk past by as one of them downs their whole drink in one go, and on the first floor there are business partners discussing negotiations over sleeves of fries and burgers and families with fidgeting kids and toddlers. They arrive before Junhui and Mingyu - Jihoon had slipped him the name when they were waiting for their ride, as it was going to be helpful - so they sit down at a booth of four on the same side, Jihoon’s hands immediately fumbling for the basket of bread and box of butter.

“Do you think I look weird?” Jihoon asks, running a hand over his hair. “I mean, do i look too formal?”

“You look fine,” Soonyoung assures him, peeling one of the shrimps in front of him and eating it. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Easy for you to say,” Jihoon sighs. “I hope they don’t take too long.”

They arrive around five minutes later, and Soonyoung senses their presence instantly. It’s really hard not to pay attention to the two tall model-looking men that had just walked in, yet Soonyoung still finds himself wondering if he’s mistaken, even when Jihoon tenses beside him and the two men smile in their general direction before taking their seats in front of them.

“Hey, Jihoon. Soonyoung?” The one with freckles and an upturned nose says, and Soonyoung nods after a beat. “I’m Junhui. This is Mingyu,” he looks to the man sitting next to him, and Soonyoung thinks he must be the butt of some sort of awful joke.

Mingyu is stunning - handsome and tall and lean - and Soonyoung marvels a little at how well his shirt fits his wide shoulders and how the first button is popped open to expose his long, tan neck. Soonyoung is suddenly reminded of how one day, after he had drunkenly attemped to make out with Wonwoo at a party, Jihoon had pointed out that he was in dire need of getting laid (which was a funny thing coming from Jihoon) and how he had to wait multiple days before he could even look Wonwoo in the eye again. It isn’t his fault per se. His profession requires him to be sensual and confident, and with it comes the additional side effects of being horny at the worst moments. Such as this one.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Jihoon says, so sweetly it takes some self-restraint for Soonyoung not to cringe right there and then. “We haven’t ordered yet.”

“That’s alright,” Mingyu speaks out and Soonyoung’s thighs quiver again underneath the table. Mingyu’s voice is low, the kind of low that seems to be pulled right out of the depths of his chest, but when Mingyu smiles at him his face seems to contrast the seductive quality of his voice, all tender and gentle. Soonyoung notices his canines and how some of his teeth are a bit crooked, and even that he finds endearing. “I hope you didn’t wait long.”

“Not at all!” Soonyoung nearly yelps, and immediately curses his rusty brain to mouth filter. He doesn’t want Mingyu to think he’s an idiot, mostly because he doesn’t think he could bear the embarrassment of Mingyu telling Junhui how awful his (albeit pretend) date had been that night. “We were just looking at the scallops.”

“Ah,” Mingyu says, still smiling. “Good choice.”

There’s a lot of chatting while they’re waiting for their food, mostly Junhui and Jihoon talking about work with each other and trying to include him and Mingyu in the conversation. In spite of their efforts Soonyoung still feels as if he’s intruding something, a private venting about the best flooring materials and how many sports articles Jihoon could write before he combusted, and underneath it a veiled charged tension that brightens up each of their expressions as they speak about such mundane things.

Soonyoung can tell Junhui had the exact same intentions by bringing Mingyu along with him as Jihoon had because none of them introduce Mingyu or Soonyoung to each other, or make any remarks about their relationship statuses, or even look at them for that matter. It’s all excruciating, but after the food arrives Soonyoung stops eavesdropping their conversation in favor of relishing out loud the way the spicy sauce in his potatoes makes his mouth explode with happiness. Mingyu seems to take that as an invitation to engage in a conversation, since he’s soon talking about how great the food and wine is here, and then, when Soonyoung asks, about the wine (“Port Wine - it’s really the finest out there.”), and then about themselves.

It’s probably more out of boredom and politeness, Soonyoung figures, but Mingyu appears enraptured as he talks and listens, sprinkling in some agreeable nods at the appropriate times. Mingyu is an architect, he tells him, and had met Junhui when they were working on the same project, the way Junhui had nagged him about the financial impediments of having windows all around the room and the impracticality of having marble covering the bathroom floors immediately charming Mingyu.

“He seems quiet but, really, he can be intense when he wants to,” Mingyu chuckles and Junhui nudges him under the table.

Soonyoung ducks his head when he talks about his own job, the unsteadiness of it suddenly blatantly obvious and impossible to ignore. Mingyu’s eyes widen and he whispers a soft “Wow” that Soonyoung assumes is out of pity until he notices Mingyu leaning in with a delighted smile on his face. “You’re really a dancer?”

“Well, I’m more of an instructor,” Soonyoung corrects him, half-heartedly. “But yes. I have a contract with a dance academy right now, but I also give classes at other gyms when I can. It’s kind of a shabby job compared to yours.”

“I never knew designing buildings could knock such admiration out of someone,” Mingyu says, amusedly. “You must be really flexible.”

And then, to Soonyoung’s dismay, he can feel his ears redden (he can’t even blame the wine, still almost untouched in his glass), and to his greater horror he sees Mingyu’s own neck flushing before he clears his throat and looks away. Great, he thinks to himself. He had to make this awkward.

“Soonyoung can do the splits, but it gets annoying once you’ve tripped on him over three times while he’s practicing around the house,” Jihoon pipes up, to which Junhui laughs way too vehemently and then, after a while, Mingyu follows suit.

“Practicing is important,” he tells Jihoon, but he can see Jihoon’s knowing expression, his eyebrows raised in a silent _We’re even now_ , and smiles despite himself.

“Hey,” Mingyu whispers right next to his ear when they’re waiting to pay the bill, and Soonyoung tries not to make the shiver that had just run down his spine too obvious, noticing at the same time that Mingyu is so tall he has to bend down slightly to Soonyoung’s height to whisper to him. It had been quite funny to watch Jihoon standing next to Mingyu after they got up, the top of his friend’s head barely even grazing Mingyu’s shoulder, but he hadn’t said anything. He knows how sensitive Jihoon is about his height. “I think we should leave them alone for a while. What do you say we get out of here afterwards?”

Soonyoung pretends to think about it. He knows he’s going to say yes, but he tries to argue with himself that he doesn’t know this guy from anywhere and that he could be a criminal of some sorts, but another voice pops in that tells him he’s doing this for Jihoon, and he agrees with it too easily for it to be the whole truth.

“Alright,” he whispers back, and after they split the check Mingyu says him and Soonyoung are going to get some ice cream somewhere to get to know each other, and wave goodbye to their two bemused friends.

The night is chilly and crisp, but not enough to bother Soonyoung once he puts on his jacket, burying his hands in his pockets so he’ll avoid brushing it against Mingyu’s (he would pretend to do so accidentally, of course, and Mingyu would give him an odd glance but think nothing of it). There are tourists rolling by with their suitcases searching for their hotels and couples half hanging from each others embrace as they stumble down the street, and the night is humming with life and music and laughter.

“I don’t know if you really want ice cream,” Mingyu says sheepishly once they’ve walked past the theatre. “But I know a really good place not too far from here.”

“You got me at ice cream,” Soonyoung teases, and Mingyu laughs with his head thrown back. Soonyoung hopes, foolishly, that it’s because he’s relieved Soonyoung wants to spend a little more time with him, that he’s glad Soonyoung hadn’t turned away the moment they were out of Jihoon’s and Junhui’s sight, just as Soonyoung had been when Mingyu had kept walking side by side with him. “I hope Junhui can pull Jihoon out of his shell a little or he’ll probably have hauled a cab home right now.”

“Funny,” Mingyu’s mouth quirks up, impossibly making his face more pleasing to look at. “I was about to say the exact same thing of Junhui.”

Soonyoung wonders how fit he is to criticize Jihoon’s shyness around Junhui when he himself is having trouble expressing his usual outgoing nature simply because Mingyu looks like something carved out of his most blissful dreams. He cracks jokes to pass the time, really bad ones that he had read on a best-selling book Minghao had offered him for his workplace’s Secret Santa exchange, and Mingyu laughs like Junhui had at the restaurant, way too loud at something not nearly hilarious enough to warrant such a reaction. So Soonyoung tells another and another, hoping to be able to bring that glint in Mingyu’s dark eyes each time and feeling his stomach bunching up in knots over and over again.

 

Mingyu takes them to an ice cream store that appears to have popped right out of the fifties, black and white pictures from that decade adorning the walls along with neon signs and old-fashioned menus displayed for prices that unfortunately don’t apply anymore. Soonyoung orders strawberry on a cup and Mingyu chocolate on a scone, and as they wait Soonyoung marvels at the baby blue wallpaper wrapping around the light beige sitting booths, the color scheme of wistful dreams splattered with some bright red and steel on the tables. He can’t help but think of how perfectly Mingyu would have fit this world of fantasy, this tall-tale of women in bathing suits and men with their sleeves rolled up, the new _Tarzan_ movie advertised above him as he flirted with the ice cream stand lady. 

But Mingyu is right here, and he’s real, and Soonyoung doesn’t even notice what he’s truly saying until it’s completely out of his mouth.

“Are you really single?”

Mingyu blinks at him surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, well,” Soonyoung presses on now that he’s dug this hole too deep to climb back out of it. “I’m sure you know how handsome you are, and you’re also really nice and a good conversationalist. I just don’t see why you would be single.”

“Funny,” Mingyu props his chin on his hand, and although his words are the same from a few moments ago, Soonyoung notices the way they come out sounding flirtier this time. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”

Soonyoung digs his plastic spoon into his ball of pink ice cream and buries it so deep it almost snaps in half when he pulls it out. “I was being serious.”

“So was I.”

“I’m not-“ Soonyoung huffs, frustrated, and sits back against the sofa. “Listen, it’s not that I don’t think I’m not good looking or anything, but you’ve literally had that table over there giggling and glancing over at you ever since we walked in.”

“What makes you think they’re not glancing at you?” Mingyu asks and Soonyoung wants to pull his hair out in frustration at his earnest expression.

“Because- Because _you’re_ the one who looks like a model. Or an actor. I don’t know. You just have that aura,” Soonyoung is aware of how ridiculous he sounds, but he can’t stop himself. “You must have people falling at your feet,” he sits up straighter again, and snatches a napkin from the red-striped dispenser to wipe the corner of his lips. “So, did Junhui make up the whole thing about you being lonely just so he could score a date with Jihoon? You can be honest with me. Jihoon pretty much threw me under the bus for the same reason.”

Mingyu laughs, the sound throaty and airy. “Well, you’re right about the reason Junhui did it. They’re both really thick people, uh?” Mingyu shakes his head, pauses. “But- You’re wrong. Jun wasn’t lying. My last serious relationship was in college.”

“How old are you?” Soonyoung questions, unable to help himself.

“A year younger than all of you,” Mingyu says. Twenty seven, then. “I’ve been focusing on my career, you know? I got held back a year because of a relationship and I didn’t want for it to happen again.”

“But you’re successful now,” Soonyoung points out. “You can do whatever you want.”

“I’m an initiating architect, not the queen,” Mingyu says, smiling as he finally reaches the mouth of his scone and takes a bite out of it. “Besides, after I restricted myself from relationships they seemed to just not want anything to do with me. Some flings here and there, but, you know.”

Soonyoung hates himself for wishing he could have been be one of those flings, a one night stand that Mingyu got tired of the following day, or even the following hour. _Jesus_ , he can hear Jihoon chastise him in his head, _get a grip_.

“Sorry to hear that,” Soonyoung says quietly. “And for getting stuck with me tonight.”

“I pretty much glued myself to you, though, didn’t I?” Mingyu grins, canines peeking out. His hair seems so soft under the harsh white lights. “I enjoyed myself.”

It takes a moment for Soonyoung to process what he’s saying. “Me too. It’s been strange but- fun.”

Mingyu pays for both of them in spite of Soonyoung’s protests, and he sulks as Mingyu hands the employee the cash, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

“What’s the use of splitting five dollars?” Mingyu asks, entertained by Soonyoung’s stubbornness even after they’ve abandoned the cafe and returned to the bustling streets. “It’s not going to puncture my wallet.”

“It feels weird, still,” Soonyoung says, but what he truly wants to say is “It makes this feel like a date.”

“Tell you what,” Mingyu says as they’re walking up a more quiet street, stripped of people and any sound besides the rustling of drying clothes hung above them or the occasional meowl of a stray cat. “You can pay for the next time, okay?”

Soonyoung nearly stops in his tracks. Mingyu notices him slowing down his pace and falls back into his rhythm.

“Next time?” Soonyoung asks, confused.

“Oh,” Mingyu says, as if he’s just realized something. “You didn’t- Shit, nevermind, I’m sorry. I guess I misunderstood. I totally forgot Jihoon put you up to this.”

“Wait,” Soonyoung calls out, because Mingyu’s strides have gotten bigger and Soonyoung can’t keep up with his long legs. “You really want to go on a date with me?”

“To be honest I’ve already thought of this whole thing as a date,” Mingyu smiles down at him, but there’s something somber and taciturn about it, doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Guess now you know how bitterly lonely I am.” Soonyoung doesn’t know what to say. “God, I made it awkward now, didn’t I?”

“No,” Soonyoung says once they reach the top of the street, one of his feet climbing one step of the stairs that lead to a courthouse while the other remains grounded. “I just don’t understand. Why would you want to go on a second date with me?”

“I don’t know,” Mingyu says. “You’re handsome and funny. I like you. I want to spend more time with you.”

“Woah, okay, stop,” Soonyoung pleads placing his other foot on the step so that he’s eye to eye with Mingyu. “You can’t be this honest around me or I’m going to combust.”

“You’re adorable,” Mingyu says and Soonyoung hides his blushing face behind his hands, groaning into them. “Can I kiss you?”

“Did I accidentally step into a Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks movie?” Soonyoung asks sarcastically and Mingyu lights up.

“I love those movies-“ but then he trails off because Soonyoung’s boldness only lasts the seconds it takes to place his hand on the back of Mingyu’s neck and inching closer until it’s impossible Mingyu isn’t fully able to see through his intentions. “Fuck.”

“Shut up,” Soonyoung says, smiling as Mingyu’s arms snake gently around his waist to pull him closer. He lets his eyelids fall shut.

Both of their lips are slightly chapped from the cold, but it doesn’t bother him because Mingyu is warm all over and he holds him like he’s something precious. Soonyoung runs his thumb up and down the wisps of hair on Mingyu’s nape and it makes Mingyu whine slightly against his mouth, press Soonyoung tighter against him. Even though Soonyoung’s mind alerts him to the fact that he’s kissing an almost-stranger, it still feels oddly comfortable - Mingyu’s gentle hands keeping him in place, his breathing even and unrushed, his heart thumping right next to Soonyoung’s chest.

Soonyoung’s phone starts ringing in his pocket, yet he ignores it in favor of stroking Mingyu’s cheek with his free hand until Mingyu allows his lips to part for Soonyoung, their tongues intertwining slowly and sweetly. And Soonyoung’s phone keeps ringing, and ringing, and ringing.

By the third time SHINee’s _Ring Ding Dong_ ’s chorus starts over he curses whoever is calling, and Mingyu nods, understanding, as he pulls away to take his phone out of his pocket. It’s Jihoon, and Soonyoung has a slight moment of panic where he wonders if this Junhui guy, who had been so nice and reserved at the restaurant, had kidnapped him or been too aggressive with him, but then he remembers this is Jihoon he’s talking about and picks up with his shoulders a bit more relaxed.

“Where the hell are you?” Comes Jihoon’s brisk voice, startling him. “Why wouldn’t you pick up?”

“Calm down,” Soonyoung says, looking at the ground so he won’t have to see Mingyu’s expression as he’s scolded over the phone like a child. “I came for a walk. With Mingyu.”

“Ah, so you were distracted,” Jihoon snorts. “Well, I just called to ask you for something: don’t come home.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Jihoon says, almost whispering. “Can you crash into Chan’s or something? Please?”

“Chan has exams. Plus, I’m not going to crash a college student’s dorm,” Soonyoung says, but suddenly he understands, and smiles at the power he has over the situation. “Why can’t I come home?”

“Fuck you,” Jihoon hisses. “You know why.”

Soonyoung hums. “So you’re sexiling me?”

“If your creepy terminology makes you understand it better, then yes. I’m doing… that.”

“Okay,” Soonyoung finally agrees. “But you have to pay for me the next times we go to the cinema. Popcorns and all. And I mean plural.”

Jihoon clicks his tongue. “Deal. Guess no more rewatches of Black Panther.”

“Bye, have fun,” Soonyoung says chirply just to annoy Jihoon, and hangs up. Mingyu looks at him with a quirked eyebrow. “I got sexiled,” Soonyoung tells him.

“Damn,” Mingyu shakes his head in sympathy. “Isn’t this their first date? I never thought Junhui could be such a stud.”

“Please don’t make me think about it,” Soonyoung twists his nose and Mingyu snorts. “I’ll probably check into an hotel or something.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Mingyu grabs his hand, and somehow it makes Soonyoung more hot under the collar than kissing him had. “I should probably go home too.”

“Are you trying to go all Junhui on me?” Soonyoung mock-gasps, slapping a hand over his chest like he’s being accused of something. “I’m an innocent boy.”

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “Shut up. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Definitely not,” Soonyoung argues, turning serious again. “It’s your house. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

They spend their ride back to Mingyu’s house on the subway discussing this, and then shifting the topic to their favorite Disney movies, and then both of their trips to Disneyland, and then their favorite travel destinations. There’s a moment where a voice overpowers his cotton-fluffed brain and wonders _God, what are you doing?_ , but then it gets muffled again, and Soonyoung intertwines their fingers as the train halts on another stop. _Let me have this_ , Soonyoung begs the other voice through clouds and clouds of impaired judgement. _Just for now_.

Mingyu’s apartment is not what he was expecting of an architect, too cramped and tidy, yet it seems to unexplainably fit Mingyu so well - cooking books stacked on the marble countertop, freshly laundered clothes folded on top of the ironing board, DVDs ordered alphabetically on the compartment under the television. Mingyu eyes the place anxiously, like he’s concerned there had been a spot he forgot to clean or a plate he forgot to pull away, so Soonyoung pulls him down by his sleeve, and kisses him on the cheek. Mingyu’s lips part, and he grins.

“You know, we aren’t Jihoon and Junhui,” Mingyu says. “I just met you. Even though it really doesn’t feel like it.”

“Mingyu, I kissed your cheek, not sucked your dick,” Soonyoung deadpans, amused by how Mingyu’s cheeks color immediately. “I take the couch. I’m the one who’s basically crashing your place.”

In the end they both sleep in the living room, Mingyu curled up uncomfortably on the lovers seat and Soonyoung lying still on the narrow couch, watching a rerun of _American Idol_. They laugh at the terrible auditions and cry at the moving ones, and then they discuss the contestants like an old married couple.

“This was nice. Thank you for letting me stay,” Soonyoung whispers just when he’s about to fall asleep, almost not meaning for Mingyu to hear it. He doesn’t even know what time it is and his phone is too far away to check.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says back, drowsy and quiet. “Thank you. For staying,” and Soonyoung doesn’t hear anything else because he slips almost instantly into slumber, heavy and quick.

When he wakes up he feels as if barely any time has passed at all, like he had just blinked and decided to rest his eyes before opening them again. The pots of plants sitting on the ledge of Mingyu’s window dance from where they’re transformed into shadows on the curtains, Soonyoung’s eyes squinting against the flimsy white morning light. He’s at Mingyu’s apartment, he remembers, and his mind becomes filled with Mingyu - Mingyu’s face, Mingyu’s voice, Mingyu’s smile, Mingyu’s hands. He buries his face on the pillow and smiles, giddy and stupidly happy.

He pulls the blanket away and gets up in one go, closing his eyes to stabilize his lightheadedness before opening them again. Mingyu’s blanket is folded on the armrest of his seat and, as Soonyoung rubs the sleep from his eyes, he can faintly smell something come from the kitchen.

When he reaches it Mingyu is barefoot and wearing an apron while preparing scrambled eggs, a few pancakes already stacked on two plates beside him. He looks different from yesterday, more casual and homely, but still so nice and radiant Soonyoung can barely stand looking at him. He clears his throat and Mingyu turns to look at him, first alert and then with a fond smile.

“Breakfast?” He asks, pointing with the spatula at the pan in front of him.

Soonyoung’s heart flutters, loud and hard against his chest, and he finds himself smiling back. He could get used to this. “I would love to.”

Later, he realizes as they eat breakfast with their feet tangling under the table and his tongue tasting of maple syrup and Mingyu, he’ll have to thank Jihoon. Maybe, he thinks with a sheepish grin on his face as Mingyu teaches him how to properly make a carrot cake and then distracts him by pressing butterfly kisses to the back of his neck, he’ll do so by taking him to the movies a couple of times.

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday choco!!! (even tho i posted this a day after lmao). i love you so so much and i hope you had the bestest day. i know i’m not the best with fluff but i hope you enjoyed this anyhow! i had a surprising amount of fun writing soongyu and junhoon being disgustingly sweet and in love and you deserve the best, always.
> 
> to anyone else who reads this: thank you so much, i hope it wasn’t too cheesy and that you had a good time reading it! plus extra thanks to bee, wafa and didi for always being there when i need an opinion and, of course, to choco again for being the sweetest friend ever.


End file.
